


a wilder cry than even mine

by Harlow R (harlowrd)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Zutara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 12:54:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harlowrd/pseuds/Harlow%20R
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When she thinks she might be close to defining what role he has in her life, a new facet appears, framed by all the others she's ever seen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a wilder cry than even mine

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://24.media.tumblr.com/146cfb183ac844314f2edeabba94488d/tumblr_mj3su0n8OT1rbse3eo1_1280.jpg) (NSFW) piece of fanart by Beanaroony.

Things are weird, now.  
  
Not that her relationship with Zuko hasn't always been difficult to define (enemy? _but he saved Aang and faced Azula by their side and wept with her in the crystal catacombs._ menace? _but she was able to defeat him as an equal in the only spot of the North Pole where there wasn't a ton of ice on her side._ friend? _but he **betrayed** her_ ). When she thinks she might be close to defining what role he has in her life, a new facet appears, framed by all the others she's ever seen. A part of her wonders how he lives with himself; how he knows who he is (if he does).  
  
But after their excursion to find her mother's killer, after he saw her arguably at her very worst, it's hard to deny a sort of intimacy that wasn't there before. Even her brother, the person she's closest to in their group, hasn't seen the side of her that Zuko has. Katara strongly suspects Sokka wouldn't really have been able to handle it very well, anyway – much less Aang or Toph. But Zuko did, and the entire episode was marked by something Katara can't quite wrap her head around. As if he didn't judge her at all ( _but how can he not_ ), doesn't think any less of her for anything that happened during those days. It's weird, but she welcomes the weirdness of it in contrast with the rest of her life. Like she didn't know there was something wrong before but there was, there _was_.  
  
Their closeness came too soon and too suddenly, though. They aren't really friends in the more everyday ways, yet; they don't hang out, they don't make silly comments or have inside jokes, they don't open their hearts to each other, they haven't even known each other that long. They can't yet laugh about the past that hurt them both. When they are alone, their silences should be comfortable because there isn't anything to say, really, but the strangeness of that fact ends up making the silences uncomfortable after all. It isn't just her; she watches the way he moves around her, more awkward than usual, wanting to be close and normal like regular friends but feeling a sort of invisible barrier between them, holding back whatever progress they might make. The whole thing makes her jumpy and gives her butterflies in her stomach whenever he's near, especially intense when they are alone together, and she can't help but be glad of the presence of the others. The beach house is big, though, and it's easy to lose sight of where everyone else is. She tried to stick close to Toph or Aang at all times so as to avoid alone time with Zuko (trailing after Sokka and Suki just isn't an option, for several disgusting reasons), but Aang needs his alone time and was starting to get uncomfortable, and Toph came too close to figuring out why she was doing it in the first place, so she stopped.  
  
Thus, watching Aang train became the best way to be around Zuko without being alone with him. When they are both watching Aang Earthbend, their attention is engaged and their comments to each other come easily, about Aang and about their friends and whatever else may be going on in the house. When he is busy training Aang, it obviously stops him from being awkward around her, which in turn keeps her from becoming awkward around him. In fact, one of the first things she noticed when watching him was how very not awkward he is when he is Firebending. The complete opposite of awkward, one might say. His movements are measured and precise yet natural; intense yet thoroughly controlled.  
  
Also, he is always shirtless.  
  
Katara can barely admit it to herself, but that's really the main reason she keeps coming back to watch them train. Of course she is interested in Aang's progress and wants to see how he is doing; she is even curious about the kind of teacher Zuko is and whether she can learn anything from his methods (or, as it is usually the case, if she can maybe offer some suggestions of her own). But the shirtlessness has such an organic, instinctual appeal that she almost doesn't realize she's walking toward the courtyard until she's sitting down to watch and they've started moving. She can't sit too close to them (sadly), lest she be accidentally burned, but she can see. She watches the muscles move under his skin – arms and back and shoulders specially. They make her stare at him when he's clothed, too: knowing that under the layers of fabric they are there, moving the same way. They turn his whole presence into something different for her, something magnetic, made even more appealing by the fact that they are covered up. The weird attraction makes her stare at the way his hair falls on his neck, the way his neck disappears into his shirt, sloping into broad shoulders and strong arms and large hands – then someone catches her staring and she looks away, blushing and stammering an excuse.  
  
During the training, however, she doesn't need an excuse. She can stare as much as she wants, all under the pretense of interest in Aang's performance. And stare she does, until the session comes to a natural end or until Aang is too tired to continue (specially common during their second Firebending lesson of the say, at sunset). Such is what happens one particular afternoon, after an increasingly frustrated Zuko attempts to motivate a hopelessly distracted Aang.  
  
"You know this move! You've done it perfectly several times before!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Sifu! I guess I'm just…not very focused today."  
  
"Then get focused!"  
  
"I'm trying!" Katara's brow furrows at the sound of Aang's raised voice. It's clear to her that they are both frustrated and experience tells her that if someone doesn't intervene, the situation may escalate into a full-blown argument between the Avatar and his Firebending teacher. "It's just been a really long day, okay," he continues, voice still strained. "Earthbending was tough today!"  
  
"It's true," she says, walking closer. "Toph was a little extra rough on him."   
  
Zuko scowls at that, but Aang seems encouraged by her interference. "Yeah! Plus I just feel like I haven't Airbended in so long. It's like it doesn't let me concentrate on other stuff!"  
  
Defeated, Zuko sighs. "Fine. It's not like you'll get any training done well today, anyway. Take the rest of the evening off, but tomorrow it's back to work!"  
  
"Okay, Sifu Hotman!" Before Zuko can object to the nickname, Aang is running off and picking up his staff, not bothering to even put his shirt back on. Katara pushes back the nagging concern that he may catch a cold and turns toward Zuko instead.  
  
"He's been having some issues with his Earthbending lately. I think it's affecting his self-confidence a lot."  
  
"Well, I've had self-confidence issues my entire life; it never stopped me from giving my all during my training."  
  
"You and Aang are very different. Plus you had only Firebending to worry about; Aang has all four elements," she reminds him. "He just needs a lot of time to himself. I think it's an Airbender thing."  
  
"He doesn't have the luxury of time," he argues, but his tone is softer. "None of us do, right now."  
  
"I guess we just have to find a way." She watches him sit down on the edge of the fountain, head in his hands and shoulders slumped. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah," he replies, voice muffled by his hands. "Just a little tired, that's all."  
  
"Have you been sleeping well?" she asks, an edge of bossiness creeping into her tone. "We all need our strength, Zuko! We need to take good care of ourselves or we won't be able to help Aang!"  
  
"I know." He sighs. "I guess I haven't been able to relax much."  
  
They can all feel the pressure, Katara knows, but Zuko looks like he's carrying the weight of the entire thing alone. _He can't help it_ , she realizes. _He's always so intense_.  
  
She sits next to him, hesitant. "Maybe I could help."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I could use my Waterbending to heal you," she says. "Well, not heal exactly, since you're not hurt, but just to take away the soreness on your muscles and help relax them."  
  
He looks like he's about to refuse, so Katara musters up her best look of bossy concern. "Okay," he acquiesces with a small, slightly awkward smile.  
  
She stands. "Let's go into the downstairs bathroom, where there's enough water."  
  
They walk in silence to the closest washroom, past the library, the study, and the music room. It occurs to her that the kitchen might have been a more neutral place for a relaxing healing session, but they are farther from the kitchen than from the washroom now, and it would be awkward to turn back. Zuko hasn't put his shirt back on, for which Katara is in equal parts happy and annoyed. By the time they arrive at their destination, self-doubt is prickling harder at Katara's stomach. _What am I doing? He didn't even want to do this; why did I have to insist? Ugh_. Still, she turns on the golden faucet to let clear water fill the basin. "It'd probably be nicer for you if the water was warm…"  
  
Zuko looks up at her in confusion for a moment, before understanding what she means. "Oh, sure." He steps closer to the basin and sticks his hands in it. Soon, delicate tendrils of steam are rising from the water.  
  
Katara tests it with her own fingers. "Okay, this is good. Um, you should probably sit somewhere so I can work on your shoulders and back…" They look around, but the only surface available that would be good for sitting is the edge of the bathtub, and Katara suspects it might get uncomfortable for him. "I guess maybe on the floor? If that's okay with you…"  
  
Zuko nods and sits on the marble floor, one leg stretched out in front of him and the other bent, arms around it. Katara bends enough water to cover her hands and wrists, then kneels behind him.  
  
He shivers when she touches his shoulders from behind, hands glowing as she gently kneads his tense muscles. Katara watches gooseflesh appear on his skin, from the back of his neck to his forearms, wondering if they are a good or a bad thing. Zuko doesn't make a sound, so she continues running her fingers over his skin, pressing down whenever she senses a sore spot and immediately soothing it with the healing water.  
  
As she brings her hands up the back of his neck in a gathering motion, she hears him gasp. "Did I hurt you?"  
  
"N-no," he replies, and when he doesn't elaborate, she resumes the movement of her hands.  
  
His skin is so warm that Katara wonders if the water doesn't actually feel cool to him. His hair is still wet with sweat from the Firebending practice, but he doesn't seem to be perspiring otherwise. _How can he stand the Fire Nation summers?_ Her own body temperature is normal and she can barely move some days. Distracted, Katara allows herself to admire the smooth skin of his back, the delicate lines of the muscles beneath. She's never had the opportunity to touch him, before – not while he's shirtless, not with such intimacy. The fact that he trusts her and would probably let her roam her hands all over his back and shoulders (maybe chest?) under the guise of "helping him relax" is thrilling, and she feels something tighten in her lower belly. She moves her hands lower and lower, touching him down his spine and toward his sides, and hears something like a low groan leave his throat. Katara blushes, but nonetheless smirks in satisfaction, and decides she wants to find out how else she can make him voice pleasure at her work.  
  
Moving upward again, she concentrates on his neck and scalp for several moments, observing the way his breathing gets heavier and louder. She wonders if he realizes how he sounds, what it _seems_ like she is doing to him; then she wonders what exactly it is that she is doing to him. When he places his hands behind him on either side of her, to support himself as his head drops back, she peeks over his shoulder and lets out a quiet gasp at the sight of the bulge in his pants.  
  
As she stills her hands, he seems to snap out of his pleasure-induced haze and turns his head toward her. His cheeks turn bright red when he realizes what caused her surprise. "I-I'm sorry," he stammers, already curving his torso so as to hide his erection and preparing to stand. "I'm sorry, I didn't-- I'm sorry--"  
  
Katara places her hands firmly on his shoulders. "No," she says, and he stills. "It's okay."  
  
"It is?" he asks, voice barely louder than a whisper.  
  
"Yeah," she replies, more boldly than she feels. "It's fine."   
  
He sits back down and she places his hands behind him again, then goes back to work on his shoulders. She almost jokes about the fact that he's so tense again that all her work has been undone and she needs to start over, but decides not to say anything. Instead, she drops the water and moves a little to his right, startling him when her hand slides down towards his chest. He gasps when her fingers brush a nipple, so she stays there a few moments, encouraged by his heavy breathing and tiny moans. But ultimately, her eagerness gets the best of her and she can't help but touch him further down, past his toned abs and the small trail of hair that begins on his lower stomach, until she finally reaches the object of her curiosity.  
  
When her hand gently cups it, unsure, he gives a loud moan as his eyes snap open and his hips buck, pushing it further into her hand. Katara can feel his eyes on her, and she manages to meet his gaze for a second before dropping her eyes back down and blushing. He seems confused, and even slightly scared, but she's not sure what of. "Is this okay?" she asks, hoping it helps.  
  
"Y-yeah," he replies after a few moments.  
  
"Is it…good?"  
  
She hears him swallow. "Yeah. Just…a little firmer, maybe."  
  
Katara shifts the position of her hand, gripping what she can make out as his shaft. She tugs on it experimentally, not wanting to hurt him. "Like that?"  
  
"Like that," he says, arching his back, "just a little harder."  
  
Katara tugs more firmly, and the sound that comes out of his lips makes her blush even more. The heat on her face and ears is starting to get uncomfortable, but she continues to touch him, moving her fingers up and down his length. Even through his pants, she can feel the shape of him, the form that strains against the fabric. It occurs to her that she could slide her hands underneath it, feel him directly – but decides against it. _I'm not sure I'm ready for **that**._  
  
  
Taking advantage of the fact that his eyes are closed, she watches his face – its sharp angles and soft skin, flushed with pleasure and probably embarrassment. Tentatively, Katara moves her hand lower, gently massaging his balls, and he gasps, arching his back again and spreading his legs slightly. She watches him bite his lip, brow furrowed in concentration, as he moves his hips softly against her hand. "Fuck yes," he murmurs, and she feels that same thrill in her stomach again.  
  
She feels his hand close around her ankle behind her, and tries not to think of how warm and big it is, and what it would be like to have _him_ do this to _her_. Instead, she focuses on the fact that his breathing is becoming quicker, which must mean he's close. Emboldened, Katara places her hand back on his shaft, gripping its hardness. She notices he seems to like it more when she touches closer to the tip, so she focuses her efforts there. Meanwhile, she moves her other hand from his shoulder toward his neck, running the back of her fingernails against his skin as hard as she dares. He groans and shivers, so she continues up his scalp, watching the gooseflesh appear again as her other hand touches him from base – or as close as she can get, with the fabric in the way – to tip.  
  
He throws his head back against her hand and she pulls his hair tight between her fingers, simultaneously tightening her grip as she maneuvers her hand around his tip. His hips buck wildly and he lets out a loud groan before biting his lip. Underneath her hands, Katara feels the fabric get wet as a stain spreads around his crotch area. She removes her hand and sits back on her knees, waiting for him to regain his breath. His hand is still around her ankle.  
  
When she dares look up at his face, she sees he's staring at the spot where her hand was, eyes slightly unfocused. Hesitantly, he brings his eyes up to hers and swallows hard. He licks his lips, then says, pointing vaguely downward: "I should, um…"  
  
"Oh," she says. Bending some water down from the basin, she directs it down to his pants and lets it soak into the fabric; then, she bends the dirty water off him and into the drain near the corner of the washroom. He stares down at his dry crotch, slightly stupidly.  
  
"Oh. Thanks," he finally says.  
  
"No problem."  
  
The silence that follows is getting more awkward by the minute. She notices again that Zuko hasn't removed his hand from her leg; instead, he squeezes it lightly. He's looking at her face, but not at her eyes. At her lips, she realizes. "So, um. Th-thanks. Thank you." He clears his throat.  
  
"No problem," she repeats, and for some reason feels the need to licks her lips. "I guess now you're relaxed!" she blurts out, then blushes. _Ugh._  
  
Zuko breathes out a laugh. "Yeah." He pauses. "Do you think maybe... you might need some, um, relaxing as well?" She didn't even realize his face was getting closer. Slightly dazed, she nods – a light flicker of her head. "Yeah?" he asks again, and she can feel on her own lips the breath coming out of his mouth.  
  
"Yeah," she whispers, heartbeat thundering in her ears, and he touches his lips to hers.


End file.
